| Goodness Gracious is there nothing left to say?
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| When the ones that get to keep looking
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| Are the ones that look away
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| It’s pabulum for the sleepers
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| In the cult of brighter days
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| Goodness Gracious at the mercy of the crooks
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| We’re broke and stroking vegetables
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| And there’s way too many cooks
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| In every pot a pink slip, In every mouth a hook
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| Goodness Gracious I’m not listening anymore
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| Cause the spooks are in the White House
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| And they’ve justified a war
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| So wake me when they notify
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| We’re gonna fight some more
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| Goodness Gracious not many people care
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| Concern is getting scarcer
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| True compassion really rare
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| I can see it on our faces. |
| I can feel it in the air
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| Goodness Gracious me
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| Goodness Gracious my generation’s lost
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| They burned down all our bridges
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| Before we had a chance to cross
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| Is it the winter of our discontent or just an early frost?
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| Goodness Gracious of apathy I sing
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| The baby boomers had it all and wasted everything
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| Now recess is almost over
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| And they won’t get off the swing
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| Goodness Gracious we came in at the end |
| No sex that isn’t dangerous, no money left to spend
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| We’re the cleanup crew for parties
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| We were too young to attend
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| Goodness Gracious me
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| Goodness Gracious my grandma used to say
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| The world’s a scary place now
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| Things were different in her day
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| What horrors will be commonplace
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| When my hair starts to grey? |